


Looks can be Decieving

by Unrulypotato



Category: Assassin's Creed
Genre: F/M, Goodbye, I have no idea what I'm doing, I think that's it - Freeform, I'll add more as I think of stuff, I'll probably cave is you ask me to write more, Maybe - Freeform, Slow Burn, and there probably won't be any cussing, any feedback welcome, but ive written lots so I'm not a noob, cuz I'm too holy for that, god bless, have fun, i have no patience, idk if I'll do smut, if I even get that far, if you're British, im not English, let me know and I'll change it, so don't get attached, so the accents and wording may be messed up, this is my first posted fanfic btw, this just popped into my mind, this will probably go nowhere
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-29
Updated: 2016-02-29
Packaged: 2018-05-23 21:21:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6130458
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Unrulypotato/pseuds/Unrulypotato
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Amity Dalliston is a young Templar and the daughter of a wealthy businessman. However, when she's charged with finding the Observatory, she must sail to the Bahamas and pose as the man Benedict Galway. So what happens when the first man she ever falls for doesn't know her true identity and is affiliated with the very people she's tasked with killing?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Looks can be Decieving

**Author's Note:**

> I'm really sorry for all of this, this is basically just a dump where I can post stuff so it feels like I'm actually working towards something and I'm not just wasting my time with a story that will never go anywhere. And I suck at summaries, just saying, I know. And I promise the story will get more interesting as it progresses. If it progresses. I don't know how often this is going to get updated, but I promise I'll keep you up to date. So uhh ya. Have fun, and let me know if you hated it or loved it.

I was awoken before dawn by the hollering of the ship's crew. Their incessant chattering and shanties had been a bother throughout the entire voyage, however this was a different type of speak, one I would gladly welcome with open arms. For it was a shout that was filled with joy, and relief, and laughter. It was a shout that meant our destination was in sight. It also meant I could be off of this blasted ship in just an hour or two.  
I hastily climbed from my bed, my vision turning a bit spotted from the sudden change of position. I waited a few seconds for my impaired vision to return to normal, then set off towards the deck. I held my breath as I passed through the living quarters that smelled all too much like piss and sweat, a smell I have not gotten used to during the several months it took to make it here. A few men were still lounging about, one or two of them looking a bit sickly. I'm glad I'll be off of this hellhole before the disease hits.  
Reaching the deck put air in my lungs (literally), and a skip in my step. I may not be too fond of the living conditions of a long voyage, but I'll never get tired of the sea, never get sick of the crisp, rejuvenating smell that was only found at dawn, or the constant rocking motion of the vessel, all too similar to the rocking of a cradle. My feet brought me to the helm, as per my usual routine. I deftly dodged the crewmen who scurried about, more than a few casting scowls my way. Only a few more hours, maybe not even as many as the brigantine was a fast vessel. I plopped myself down onto a barrel filled with God knows what, and struck up a chat with the helmsman.  
"How're you doing on this fine day, Charles?" I crossed my arms and grinned at him, however I winced a bit on the inside.  
Even after several months, I'm still as much of an amateur with acting as a man as I was the day I first started. My voice, although deep for a woman's, threatens to rise with every word, and these blasted pieces of cloth I've stuck in my mouth to add definition to my cheeks and chin continues to make me slur. Not to mention the fact that the highly uncomfortable bandage wrapped tightly around my breasts is making it more of an effort to breath, and that the specially made padding that I put under my clothes is stiff and just barely makes my body a man's. Thank god my hands are already large and calloused.  
"I'm doin' very well now that word's come in that land's within sight. I could go for a good drink, along with a real meal, and real women." I mentally chuckled. If only he knew. "I'm sure you'll be 'appy to get off this ship too. I know 'ow little of this trip you've enjoyed."  
I gave him a kind smile. He actually listened to all of my rants I bombarded him with during the first couple weeks. "This has by far been the worst trip I've ever taken. And it hasn't been the trip itself, oh no! The trip has run smoothly, no bad storms or pirates, it's been a miracle. No, it's been the crew and it's captain! You've been the only kind soul," I gestured towards to working crewman as I spoke.  
"Of all the men on this ship, I should be one to know," he retorted, the corners of his mouth slightly upturned. I threw him an apologetic smile.  
We spent a few moments in a comfortable silence, and I took the time to look Charles over, not for the first time (I'm a woman alone on a ship full of men, what else am I to do?). He was taller than most, and about a head taller than I. His sandy hair was chopped short, most likely done by himself as it was uneven and ragged. His skin was tan from the months spent at sea, and his hands were rough and calloused. He had a strong face that was parried by a soft smile and warm green eyes.  
I quickly looked away as he glanced at me from the corner of his eye. I could feel the beginnings of a blush form on my cheeks. Charles gave a barely audible chuckle and a small shake of his head. I coughed and started another conversation, if only to get out of this awkward situation.  
"S-so," I started out, mentally cursing myself for my stammer, "what are you planning on doing after we dock in Havana?"  
He took a moment to think. "I'll look for another ship to navigate. I've already spoken to the captain, and he was indifferent to my leaving. But before any O' that, I'm heading t' the local tavern. Get myself a drink, maybe find a whore. You should come."  
I chuckled. "I won't have time for the whore, but I'll buy us both drinks, as celebration for a long trip finally ended. Then I'll get on with my own business."  
"What is 'your own business?'" You haven't spoken of your plans during this entire voyage."  
"It's a bit private, mate. All I can tell you is that I'm here to protect a very important man."  
He gave me a disbelieving look. "You're here to protect someone?"  
I gave him a crooked grin. I don't blame him for not believing me. I'm a bit scrawny, and resemble a young lad when dressing as a man, even though this summer marks my 24th birthday. "Looks can be deceiving," was all I said.  
He gave a sigh. "Indeed," although he still looked a bit skeptical.  
We talked idly for some time, until Charles suggested I go ahead and gather my things. By the time I had my belongings packed away, the crew was docking the ship in Havana's extensive port.  
"I'll meet you at the tavern!" I called to Charles. He yelled a response and then I was off. During my walk, I took the time to observe the fine city. The dock was bustling and filled with sailors, fisherman, merchants, and the like.  
I found a pair of men waiting for work and handed them a few Reales and my things. "I expect to find these trunks in my room at the fort. Take them to the guards out front, they'll know what to do. And don't even bother trying to open them, you won't get past the lock," I spoke rather harshly to them. They nodded and I continued walking.  
The rest of the city was structured very similarly and all sported the same features, some a few more dilapidated than others. People of all kinds littered the streets. There were dancers, and sell swords, townspeople and soldiers, the poor and the rich. Havana was truly a fine place.  
Before long, I found my way to the tavern. It had an open roof with a covered bar and tables. It had a centerpiece of a shallow fountain and overgrown wildflowers decorated the pillars and walls. It was rather small, but filled with people.  
For the next long while, I spent my time idly. I made small talk with the bartender and listened to the rumors he spilled. I bought a meal, a godsend, as I've been living on old bread and salted meat for the past few months. I even had the time to play a few matches of Nine Men's Morris. Let's just say the poor man I was playing with had considerably lighter pockets by the time he left.  
It was just past noon when Charles waltzed into the bar, woman already in hand. I waved him over and a grin broke out over his handsome face.  
"Charles, it's about time!" I called out.  
"Sorry, Ben," he answered, "I got a bit sidetracked."  
I took in his disheveled hair and the woman's blush and put the two pieces together. "No problem, mate, I understand," I chuckled. He sat down in the chair on the opposite end of the table, the woman taking a place on his lap. I slid him the drink I had bought earlier and he took a swig of it. "I hadn't realized that the woman was first on your list of priorities," I smiled.  
"I hadn't either," he said sheepishly.  
The woman at his side cast down her gaze as a blush filled her cheeks, a bit modest for a whore. She wore a bright yellow dress that hugged her curves all too well, and exposed the smooth skin of her neck and chest. She had a pretty, small face with dark hair and tanned skin. The girls in Havana were truly extravagant.  
I don't miss dressing like her at all. I never had to whore myself out, but, as the daughter of a wealthy businessman, receptions and the like were a common thing. I can still feel the constriction of that blasted corset.  
I turned my attention back on Charles, who was glancing across the rest of the tavern. "Have I missed anything exciting?" He asked.  
"No," I said, looking across the open room to a hooded man who seemed a little more than pissed off at the stocky man in front of him.  
"But do you see that big brute over there?" I asked, pointing. Charles nodded. "He's about to get his arse kicked."

**Author's Note:**

> DANGIT IM SO SORRY, WHEN I POSTED THIS IN HERE FROM PAGES IT TOOK AWAY ALL THE INDENTIONS AND IM WAY TO LAZY TO FIX IT, IM SORRY.


End file.
